


Not Her Color

by Rosa_Cotton



Series: Our Hobbit Lass [18]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Angst, Bilbo cooks, Bofur is a Sweetheart, Bofur loves Bilbo, Bofur loves Bilbo's cooking, Colors, Community: hobbit_kink, Confessions, Cooking, Denial, Drama, Dwarf Courting, Dwarf Culture & Customs, F/M, Female Bilbo, Fluff, Food, Mother Hen Dori, Pining, Popularity, Romance, Sad Bofur, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, and he is not the only one, dislikes, hobbit food takes off, restaurant owner Dori, with the dwarves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:43:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosa_Cotton/pseuds/Rosa_Cotton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bofur recalled Miss Bilbo, soon after being hired by Dori, once saying she disliked the color yellow. So why did she wear it all the time now? AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Her Color

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ajir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajir/gifts), [Questions3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Questions3/gifts), [UnshoddenShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnshoddenShipper/gifts).



> Disclaimer: _The Hobbit_ , all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.
> 
> Author’s Note: Minifill for a [prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/10731.html?thread=21690091) on the hobbit-kink meme.

_“Thank ye, lass,” Bofur said with a nod when Miss Baggins placed a large steaming plate in front of him. His mouth watered at the delicious aromas that tickled his nose._

_“You are most welcome.” The hobbit lass’s polite smile melted into a slight frown as she fiddled with her apron. “Hate yellow…,” she grumbled under her breath, tugging on the offending cloth, and disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving a starry-eyed Bofur gazing after her._

~~~ 

The fur-hatted dwarf could remember that moment like it had occurred only yesterday instead of seven months ago. And he wondered yet again why Bilbo Baggins hated the color. Especially since every evening for the last five weeks when he stopped by Dori’s restaurant the Silver Fox for dinner, he discovered Bilbo wearing yellow. It was not only the apron now. 

Some days she wore a yellow vest, others it was yellow ribbons in her hair, a yellow skirt, or a yellow blouse. Tonight she was dressed in a light yellow dress, with a simple gold chain around her neck, looking as sweet as a buttercup. 

Bofur sighed wistfully. He was far from being the only one whose eye had been caught by the pretty hobbit.

News had traveled fast regarding Dori’s new cook, her scrumptious dishes and unusual beauty ( _”Hairy feet, no beard, so small!”_ the stunned whispers had run). So business had picked up for Dori as curious dwarves came to sample this new hobbit food. Now his restaurant was extremely popular, with dwarves traveling from near and far to visit the Silver Fox, and faithful patrons returning again and again for Bilbo’s food. ...And an opportunity to get a look at the little cook. 

(“So _that’s_ the cause of your new-found love for the Silver Fox...and your concern with your appearance,” Bombur had commented after Miss Baggins brought out their meals the night Bofur’s brother and cousin accompanied him. The red-haired dwarf’s grin had been full of comprehension and Bifur shook with silent mirth while a stammering Bofur repeatedly protested it wasn’t like that at all.)

Shoulders sagging, the miner gazed unhappily into his mug of mead. 

Four days ago an entourage from Erebor had come to Dori’s restaurant. Never had Bofur seen the hobbit lass so flustered when confronted with the intimidating dwarves and their obvious interest (which had included no less than the King Under the Mountain, Crown Prince Fili, several of the king’s kinsmen, and the Captain of the Guard). Her face had burned when Thorin II Oakenshield praised Dori on his fine establishment, his intense blue eyes fastened on the hobbit the whole time.

Just like that evening, discouragement twisted the miner’s stomach into knots. In the past Bofur had observed Bilbo’s admirers with bemusement when they’d attempted to flirt with her before an overprotective Dori swooped in. But to know the hobbit lass could have such noble, important suitors made him see he was a fool to pine after Bilbo. That it was hopeless to approach her – share with her how her cooking was his favorite; that her smile left him tongue-tied; how he’d realized he was lost when she was not put off by his bluntness. She could have her pick of any dwarf. Why should she give him a second glance? 

The hatted dwarf’s gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a light thump. He looked up to find Bilbo on the opposite side of the counter, pushing a plate towards him.

“There you are, Bofur,” she announced.

His smile was slow to come, lacking some of its usual cheer. His gaze flickered between his food and the lass’s green eyes. 

“Why do ye wear yellow? Ye dislike that color.” The dwarf’s eyes widened and he felt his cheeks flush. He had not meant to say that at all! 

The lass looked like a deer cornered by a hunter. The miner opened his mouth to apologize for his bluntness, fearful she would bolt. He hesitated when she let out a long sigh and then leaned her arms against the counter. Something like uncertainty crossed her features.

“I...you do not know?” she asked in a soft voice, gazing at him searchingly.

Bofur blinked, caught off guard by her question. Slowly, helplessly he shook his head.

Bilbo’s disappointment and embarrassment was crystal clear before she stared down at the counter. Her chuckle was weak and it nearly broke Bofur’s heart. He held his breath.

“Well, that is to say…,” she stumbled over her words, “I have not worn Ori’s color, nor Nori’s. Or Master Dwalin’s. And the king’s I _do not_ —”

The miner swiftly leaned across the counter, his lips finding Bilbo’s and cutting off the rest of her words. Her mouth was soft and sweet against his. After a long moment he reluctantly pulled away, his heart pounding in his ears. The hobbit appeared as awestruck as he felt. Her left hand was curled around one of his braids. 

“Truly?” he whispered. He had not dared to wonder.

She nodded. “I asked Dori and he explained…,” she trailed off, turned her head away. “I’m sorry.” 

“No!” Gently, Bofur reached out and guided her by the chin to face him again. This time his smile was genuine, reaching up to his eyes, happy and loving. “It is fine, lass,” he reassured. Her answering smile was shy, hopeful, and he added, “I thought, what chance did a simple miner have compared to royalty?”

Releasing his braid, she touched his cheek. “Bofur, _you_ are all I’ve wished for.”

Warmth washed over the dwarf at her response and, at a loss for words, drew her into another kiss.

A cough caused the two to jerk apart. Dori filled the kitchen doorway, steaming plates of food in his hands. He cast a severe look on the two. Blushing, the dwarf swallowed nervously. The lass laced her fingers through his, casting a bright smile at her employer. Huffing, the silver-haired dwarf rolled his eyes and went off without a word. Bofur stared after him until he felt Bilbo press his hand. He turned to her.

“I need to get back to work,” she murmured.

He clasped her other hand in his. “Tomorrow Bilbo...would ye like to come and have afternoon tea with me?” he asked slowly.

Bilbo’s green eyes sparkled with understanding and joy. “I would love to.”

THE END


End file.
